Legacy (Private 6)

"Did you know that George Washington didn't want to be president?" Sabine asked me that night. She turned around in her desk chair, all excited, the seashell bangles she always wore clicking together. American history was her antidrug. She was learning it for the first time, coming from a foreign land and all, and each new fact got her all starry-eyed--like the rest of Billings got whenever they heard Stella McCartney was coming out with a new line or that Jake Gyllenhaal was shirtless in some new magazine. It was kind of cool, actually, seeing someone get all fizzy about stuff I'd known since grade school.

I placed my pencil down on my calculus notebook and flexed my aching fingers. Apparently I'd been gripping the thing too hard. A callus was starting to form on the inside of my middle finger. "Yeah, I do remember that," I said. "He didn't think he was worthy or something, right?" "Kind of like you," Sabine teased I looked down at my pencil-dented fingers. "I think I'm worthy," I lied. "Just that Noelle is more worthy," she said perceptively. My cheeks reddened. "Yeah, well, she's just... Noelle. You'd get it if you knew her." Sabine's face fell and she quickly turned back to her work. "Well, I don't." And thanks for reminding me, her tone said. But how was I supposed to explain it? How was I supposed to convey what it had been like for me last fall? I could hardly define it myself. I had worshipped Noelle. Hated her. Loved her. Feared her. Needed her. There was no way to quantify Noelle's... Noelle-ness. It was something you had to experience for yourself.

"Sabine, I--" A knock at our door cut me off. We both looked at it, perplexed. No one ever knocked. They just barreled right in, usually with some hair crisis or vital gossip already spewing forth before the door had even slammed shut. "Come in?" I said tentatively. Noelle opened the door and stepped back to allow a distinguished- looking middle-aged woman to step inside. She was wearing a gorgeously cut power suit and a thick gold necklace, and had perfect blond highlights that even Ariana would have died for. In her hands was a large, silver-wrapped gift with a thick, silky red bow. Her smile was warm and genuine, but something about the way she carried herself was all business. Even though she was tiny, her presence somehow filled up the room. I stood up, feeling instinctively that it was the right thing to do. "Ladies, so sorry to interrupt your study session, "the woman said, with a slight Southern accent. "Oh, it's no problem," I answered quickly.

"Reed Brennan, I'd like you to meet Susan Llewelyn," Noelle said cordially. "Suzel is head of the Billings alumni committee as well as a member of the Easton Academy board of directors." "A pleasure to meet you, Reed," Suzel said, stepping forward to hand me the large, heavy box. "On behalf of the Billings alumni committee, I'd like to congratulate you on your presidency." "Thank you," I said, surprised that news of my presidency had made it to the board of directors. Her formality made me feel flustered and warm--unsure of how to respond--and the box felt big and awkward in my arms. Sabine shifted in her seat and I cleared my throat, tipping my head toward her side of the room as I eyed Noelle pointedly. "Oh, and this is Sabine DuLac," Noelle added flatly.

My face burned for Sabine. Why was Noelle so very disinterested in my roommate? But Sabine didn't seem to notice the tone. She was focused intently on Suzel. At the beginning of the semester, when Cheyenne had made all of the Billings newbies steal artifacts from around Easton, Sabine had chosen to lift Susan Llewelyn's valedictorian banner from the chapel. Sabine had spent hours researching Suzel in the Easton library and was fascinated by her. "It's an honor to meet you," Sabine said, getting up to shake Suzel's hand. My heart fluttered with nerves. Oh, crap. Should I have shaken her hand? But she had put this huge box right into my arms. Suddenly I wished I had paid attention when Sabine had told me all those little factoids she'd learned about Suzel, just so that I could have an interesting or insightful question to ask. I quickly turned around and placed the box on my desk, knocking over my cup of pens and pencils in the process. I was so mortified I wanted to cry. Noelle pressed her lips together at the huge clatter, but Suzel ignored it.

"And you," Suzel said politely to Sabine. "One of our newest initiates." Sabine and I glanced at each other. She had, in fact, never been properly initiated. But neither of us was about to mention that debacle. On the night of the annual ritual, Cheyenne had made sure that the girls she had deemed acceptable--Missy, Kiki, and Astrid--had been welcomed to our circle with open arms, while Sabine, Constance, and Lorna had been humiliated and ostracized. The whole thing had been busted up by Headmaster Cromwell; Cheyenne had been expelled and had taken her life that night. No one had spoken about initiation since. "Well, that is for you, obviously," Suzel said, looking at the gift as she folded her hands in front of her. "Open it later, when you are alone," she added firmly.

I glanced at Sabine, who seemed discomfited by the instruction. "Oh. Okay. Thank you," I stammered. "We all think you're going to be a real asset to the Billings legacy, Reed," Suzel said, her smile broadening as she looked me up and down. Thank goodness I had worn the new, expensive sweater Noelle had given me. "Thank you. I hope I live up to your expectations," I said. There. At least that was a full sentence. "It was so nice to meet you both," Suzel said. "You too," I said. "Will we see you at the alumni dinner on Saturday?" Yes! Another comple

te sentence. Suzel smiled. "Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it," she replied. "I'll see you then." Then she shook both our hands and walked toward the door. Noelle showed her out and, after a few hushed words in the hallway, came back inside. "So that was Suzel, huh?" I asked. Aside from Sabine stealing Suzel's chapel banner, I hadn't heard Susan Llewelyn's name since last year, when she had wrangled a way for all of us to get off campus for a spa day. Us being myself, Noelle, Ariana, Kiran, Taylor, and Natasha. It seemed a million years ago.

"That was Suzel," Noelle said with a smile. "Well? Come on, Reed. Open your gift!" Sabine urged me, eyeing the package hungrily. "Oh, yeah!" I said. I turned to pickup the box. "Reed, no," Noelle said, placing her hand on top of the package. "What? Why not?" I asked. "You heard Suzel. You're supposed to open it when you're alone," she said, pointedly looking at Sabine. Sabine turned positively ashen. And why not? It seemed obvious that Noelle knew what was in the box. And soon I would know what was in the box. Noelle was basically saying Sabine was the only one in the room unworthy of knowing. "Well, yeah, but--" "Reed, you're president of Billings House. You have to take these things seriously," Noelle said sternly.

I swallowed hard and looked at Sabine. Since the beginning of the year, she had become one of my best friends, and I felt awful leaving her out. But what was I going to do? This was official Billings business. This was big. "She's right. I'm sorry." Sabine shrugged. "Fine. Whatever." Then she turned and went back to her desk as if she couldn't have cared less. But I knew that she did. It was obvious that she did. When it came to Billings stuff, Sabine just didn't understand. I hoped that as time went on she would figure out how lucky she was to be here, and what it really meant. Otherwise, I had a feeling this presidency thing was going to become a real issue between us.

ABSOLUTE POWER

It was a Chloe bag. A big, black, buttery, limited-edition leather Chloe bag. Worth at least two thousand dollars, which I only knew because Portia had a similar one and I'd overheard her telling Shelby about how she had been on the list to get one for over a year, and how her dad had freaked when he saw the bill. Even though he was supposedly some big, international billionaire. He dabbled in something to do with gold and diamonds--and had shady dealings with underground militia in several different countries, if you believed the whispers. "One bag? One bag?" Mr. Ahronian kept saying over and over again in his thick Armenian accent, turning redder and redder with each parroted phrase--which Portia and her mother had found hilarious, apparently. But he had, of course, paid for it in the end. And now I had one. Me. Reed Brennan. If I sold this thing on eBay I could pay off my dad's car loan. Not that I was about to do that. This thing was just way too yummy. I was allowed to have something yummy, wasn't I?

I glanced over my shoulder to double-check that I was alone. Then I lifted the bag to my face with both hands and inhaled. That tartly rich smell of new leather filled my senses and made my head feel light. I think I was in love. But why couldn't I open this in front of Sabine? It was outrageous, sure, but she was going to see me carrying it eventually. Me. Scholarship student Reed Brennan with a two-thousand-dollar bag. Sure I had received some expensive gifts from Kiran and the others last year, but nothing like this. I ran my fingertips over the soft leather, toyed with the gold closure, and was about to set it down so I could lean back and just admire it, when I realized there was something inside. I opened the top flap and peeked in. Placed neatly in the bag were a thick, glossy Neiman Marcus catalog, a jewel case with a CD inside, and a long, red clutch with a zipper. Which was bulging. Something in there as well. This was like Christmas morning. Only no Christmas morning I'd ever had. I pulled out the clutch and popped it open. Fendi. But this time it wasn't the label that stopped me. It was the wad of cash nestled inside the clutch. No. Freaking. Way.

I snapped it shut and glanced over my shoulder again. Dead silence. Everyone was downstairs talking about our masquerade ball. I planned on joining them in a few minutes, but I was going to have to get over this heart attack I was having first. Hands shaking, I opened the clutch again and pulled out the paper- banded stack of money. I'd never seen so many hundreds before. The printing on the white band read $5,000.

Five thousand dollars. Cash. Why would anyone want to give me five thousand dollars cash? Gulping in air, I shoved the money back in the clutch and shoved the clutch under my pillow, feeling like a SWAT team was going to burst in at any moment and throw me up against the wall. Five thousand dollars. That was more money than I'd ever dreamed of having in my hands. What was it for? I took a deep breath and went back over to the bag. I placed the CD next to my closed laptop. Then I pulled out the catalog. There was a note attached.

Dear Reed,

Congratulations on being elected president of Billings. As vice president of purchasing for Neiman Marcus Group, I am pleased to find myself in a position to offer you an open line of credit. I'll be sending you our look book each season, from which you may select up to a thousand dollars' worth of merchandise, gratis. Enjoy!

Yours in Billings, Tinsley Dunellen Easton Academy Class of 1990 This was too much. Free money. Free clothes. Free designer bags. What next? A free trip to Hawaii? Beyond intrigued, I opened my computer and popped the CD in. I had to clutch my sides to keep from trembling with excitement as it whirred to life. Then a list of folders popped up in the center of the screen.

BILLINGS ALUMNI 1980s BILLINGS ALUMNI 1990s CURRENT BILLINGS RESIDENTS BILLINGS ALUMNI FUND REAL ESTATE HOLDINGS UNIVERSITY CONTACTS FORTUNE 500 CONTACTS LOS ANGELES NEW YORK PARIS MILAN And on and on. I opened file after file. The alumni fund balance was in the millions, and I now knew the pin number. There were contacts in the admissions departments at every prestigious university in the country and at dozens of elite international corporations where anyone would want to work. The city files had contact info organized by city and then by company. The real estate holdings folder contained one huge document listing homes owned by Billings alums all over the world, which were, apparently, at our disposal should we need to, oh, jet off to Dubai at a moment's notice or hole up on the shores of the Mediterranean for a few days. There was contact information for every Billings alum, plus personal info on whom they had married when, how many children they had, how many homes they owned and where. Plus, each entry had a file marked "pertinent info," which turned out to be "pertinent dirt." Dirt on each of our esteemed alumni. Affairs and arrests and compromising situations. As I read, I started to blush. Why would this be here? Why would anyone want to give this to me? Who had compiled this stuff and how did they know about all these indiscretions?

And did the file on the current residents have the same kind of info? I hated myself, but I had to know. I went to the current resident file and sure enough, inside were seventeen files, each named for one of my fellow Billings Girls. Including Noelle and Cheyenne. Ignoring my morbid curiosity about Cheyenne, I opened my own file. And there it all was. My family's income. My father's job. My mother's entire, mortifying medical history. My brother's GPA at Penn State. And tons of info on me. Records I'd broken at Croton High. The fact that I'd won firsts the last two quarters of sophomore year. The job I'd held over the summer and exactly how much money I had made. It was positively disturbing seeing all these personal facts of my own life laid out before me like they were nothing. Those paranoid feelings I sometimes had that I was being watched? Turned out they weren't so paranoid after all. At least whoever was watching me didn't seem to know about that almost kiss with Dash over the summer. Listed under significant relationships were only Adam Robinson, my one Croton boyfriend; Thomas Pearson (deceased); Walter Whittaker (attended Legacy with); and Joshua Hollis (current).

I sat back in my chair for a moment, considering the folders of my fellow Billings Girls. Missy Thurber. Wouldn't mind having some dirt on her. Portia Ahronian. What, exactly, did her mysterious father do for a living, anyway? And Cheyenne Martin. Did she have a history of depression? Erratic behavior? Seeing something like that in her folder would have made me feel so much better. But could I do it? Could I really read about the innermost secrets of these people who were supposed to be my friends? It was such a violation. Although... Cheyenne was dead. And if there was something in there that might make me feel less guilty, less anxious... My fingers hovered over the mouse. I was just about to click when my new iPhone sang at me so loudly I almost fell out of my chair. I grabbed it up in both hands. Josh's face appeared on the screen. I could barely hold the phone as I brought it to my ear. "Hello?" "Reed? Are you okay?" he asked. I suppose I did sound a tad stressed. "Yeah. Fine. Sorry," I said. I quickly closed all the files and ejected the CD. "Just startled by the phone."

"Sorry. Listen, I'm outside. Can you come down?" he said. "You're outside? Now?" I asked, getting up. My knees were like pudding from everything I'd seen, everything I'd learned, all the possibilities. I shoved the curtain aside, and there Josh was, on the grass below my window. He lifted his free hand and smiled sheepishly. "I'll be right there." I turned off the phone, shut down my computer, and stashed the CD in the back of my CD case, behind an old John Mayer CD. No one-- not even the mysterious Billings P.I. Squad--would be look

ing there. The catalog I shoved back in the Chloe bag; then I placed the whole thing under my desk and put the chair in front of it as camouflage.Right now, all this was mine and mine alone. And I wanted to savor it.

NAUGHTY

Josh shifted from foot to foot as I walked over to him, tugging down the sleeves of my sweater. It was a cool night, and he was wearing a high-necked, zip-front, ribbed sweater that was basically the sexiest thing he owned. Even though we hadn't talked since our minor blowout that morning, it made me want to sink into his arms and kiss him. Or maybe I was just high from my power trip.

"So, basically, I'm a jerk, "he said by way of greeting. I took his arm and pulled him closer to the side of the building. Technically, we weren't supposed to be out of our dorms this late, let alone participating in a mixed-sex rendezvous. Not that the rules had ever stopped anyone before. Still, I couldn't help thinking of the "pertinent info" file and wondering if this would somehow end up in it. "You're not a jerk," I whispered. "Yeah. I am." He scratched the back of his head and looked at his feet. "Look, Noelle is never going to be my favorite person, but she's important to you, and I should have realized that. I'll... I'll try to get along with her from now on." I gazed at Josh, beyond touched. "You don't have to do that. I mean, I understand why you don't like her. I really do. Maybe we can just, I don't know, hang out separately or something." "Yeah. Like that's possible," Josh joked. I loved his smile. His sweet, self-effacing smile. "No. It's okay. I can keep my mouth shut. Really. I'll be good."

"Well, maybe you can just do other things with your mouth," I said, stepping closer to him. Josh's eyes lit up. "Really? What did you have in mind?" I snaked my arms around his neck and pulled him to me. As always, the moment his tongue touched mine I felt a pleasant shiver all the way down to my toes and an involuntary moan escaped my throat. Josh took this as a signal and deepened the kiss, backing me toward the outer wall of Billings. Something about the open air, the conspicuousness of it all, made me completely and totally hot. I pulled him closer to me, pressing his whole body into mine, and his hands slid under my sweater. I couldn't believe we were doing this. Right there in the middle of campus when any one of the many security guards could have strolled right by. But I was president of Billings now. Didn't that mean I was untouchable? It didn't matter anyway. I couldn't have stopped for anything. Make-up groping was sexy enough as it was, but make-up groping with the possibility of getting caught was downright naughty. Josh's fingers found my bra and he cupped one of my breasts gently. I couldn't breathe. The second his fingertips found their way under the cotton, however, I broke away.

Okay. Not here. Not now. "What?" he said blearily. "Sorry. I--" "No. It's okay," I said quickly. "I just... we're so gonna get caught." "God. You're right. I--" His eyes flicked up to my right and his skin paled. "What?" I said, petrified now. I stumbled away from the wall and looked up at the window, but there was nothing there. "Was someone watching us?" "No. I don't think so," Josh said quickly. "I guess I'm just paranoid." "You should go," I said quickly. I gave him a quick kiss on the mouth as I pushed him back. "Okay. Yeah." Reluctantly, he turned to leave, then snapped his fingers and faced me again. "I almost forgot.... I wanted to ask you.... The big Hollis family reunion is being held in Maine next weekend. Wanna come?"

"The Hollis family reunion?" I asked. "Yeah. Every year my dad gets the whole clan together at our house in Maine for this massive clambake," Josh said, tucking his hands under his arms. "Cousins and aunts and great-aunts and everything fly in from all over the country. And they all want to meet you." I almost choked on my own saliva. "They all want to meet me?" "Well, they don't all know who you are... yet. But once they do, they'll want to meet you," Josh replied. "My mom personally asked me to invite you, and my brothers and sisters are basically dying to see who this hottie is that I couldn't stop talking about all summer. It's really just Saturday, then we'd stay overnight and come right back on Sunday. So are you in?" I hesitated. Clearly this meant a lot to Josh, but a huge group of new people I was supposed to impress? That didn't sound like a fun way to spend a weekend. "Come on. It'll be great," Josh said, stepping closer and reaching for my hand. "I promise I won't leave your side the entire time." I grinned. "Well, when you put it that way..."

"Yes! I'm so going to win the Hottest New Girlfriend trophy this year," Josh said, making a fist with his free hand. "Suck it, Hunter Hollis! Your reign ends now." "What?" "Kidding! I'm just kidding!" He gave me a peck on the lips. "Love you." "I love you too," I replied with a happy smile. He waved before jogging off, and as I watched him go, something moved in the corner of my vision. My heart stopped and I looked up again. The curtain in one of the hallway windows dropped down, as if someone had just been holding it back. You're just imagining things, Reed. No one's watching you.